


My Special One

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: One Last Time, One Last Fight [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Canonical Character Death - Finn Hudson, Cliche Metaphors About Grief, Facebook, Grief/Mourning, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-28 05:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>10:45am:</i> After I get out of bed, that is. I didn’t even set an alarm today, so I’m just lying in bed. Usually I send you messages from my laptop but I’m lying in bed right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Special One

**November 29**

_10:40am:_ I volunteered to work Thanksgiving. I went and got another one of those pumpkin coffees before I went to work. I guess maybe they’re a little girly but they’re good. I’ll have to try the Christmasy ones next week. That was yesterday, so today I’ll go get another one of those coffees and then hit the Golden Corral on Jefferson.

 _10:45am:_ After I get out of bed, that is. I didn’t even set an alarm today, so I’m just lying in bed. Usually I send you messages from my laptop but I’m lying in bed right now.

_10:51am:_ I spent most of yesterday thinking about old Thanksgivings. Last year first. Remember how we all got together and sang? We were good. Better than we always gave ourselves credit for, maybe. It was good to come back to see everyone. To see you. 

_10:53am:_ There was a woman who wished me Happy Thanksgiving the other night. For years I didn’t think about what Thanksgiving was about. Pilgrims, some days off school, lots of food. How many years did we eat once at your house and again at mine? Or at your house and then at a restaurant with my mom and Nina? How weird is this, spending Thanksgiving not-with-you? 

_11:04am:_ I decided that having my ACLs torn isn’t the right description. My ACLs would still exist. This is like that short story we had to read in seventh grade. Do you remember it? I don’t remember why, but the guy had to have his foot amputated. But it keeps hurting. Phantom pain. That’s what this is, it’s like a part of me’s been amputated and I can’t even take any fucking Advil for it, because it’s not really attached to me. 

_11:07am:_ So me and my phantom pain are going to celebrate Thanksgiving without you, I guess, if you call overeating alone to be a celebration. I’ll have turkey, pumpkin pie, some of that sweet potato casserole with the marshmallows scraped off, some green bean casserole, and mashed potatoes and gravy. Then I’ll go back and get more of the turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy. I’ll see what else they have, too. I’ll sit alone and pretend you’re there with me, because what else am I supposed to do? 

_11:12am:_ The thing is… this is actually a pretty good life. I don’t mind the IDOT job. I probably couldn’t do it for more than fifteen or twenty years, but I’m making enough money that I’m living off about half my gross. There’s a JC in town, too. Maybe one day I’ll take some classes. 

_11:13am:_ No geography, though. 

_11:15am:_ I could be happy here. In a weird way, I think I am happy here. I just have my phantom pain too, and I miss you. And if I ever meet anyone to ask out, I’m going to be comparing them to you. 

_11:22am:_ Doesn’t matter if it’s a girl or a guy, because you know that’s not really the important part here, right? 

_11:24am:_ Okay maybe it’s a little bit about your ass. I’m twenty, not

 

_11:41am:_ I actually fucking forgot. I forgot you aren’t really reading these. I forgot for a few moments, just typing like you were going to read it while you were working or studying or taking a shit or something. 

_11:44am:_ What else do I have except forgetting?

_11:49am:_ We’ll go back to our regularly scheduled forgetting tomorrow, promise. And some things are too much. Too much to type. I can’t say them out loud or type them. I’ve almost typed them out a few times but I can’t look at it for too long. Good things, bad things, doesn’t matter, it’s all overwhelming.

_11:56am:_ You told me that nothing scares me. I know you thought that in that moment. I know if you'd thought about it for a while you would have known it wasn't true. I fooled most people pretty good though, didn't I?

_11:58am_ The thing that scares me most of all is forgetting things. What if I forget how you sounded when you first woke up? What if I forget the exact way your mouth quirked when you smiled? What if I forget the way your ass looked? I haven't. But what if I do?

_12:02pm:_ It's a hell of thing, figuring something like this out too late. 

_12:19pm:_ Got up, had a shower, and we now return to your regularly scheduled forgetting. I even put on non-work clothes for the whole holiday acknowledgment thing. I don't really have nice clothes but I have on clean jeans and a sweater. Like you're going to notice, but hey, I notice these things and I wanted to. Time for my venti pumpkin spice latte and our day-late Thanksgiving dinner.


End file.
